I Just Want to Be Sure of You

Easter 7B; John 17:6-19; St. Paul’s, Smithfield, NC 5/17/2015

Jim Melnyk: “Finding a Sure Home”

Winnie the Pooh is standing at the edge of the 100 Acre Wood, quietly watching a most glorious sunset.  Suddenly Piglet is standing beside him, slipping his tiny “hand” into Pooh’s.  “Pooh,” he says rather timidly.  “Yes, Piglet,” replies Pooh-Bear.   “Nothing,” sighs Piglet.  “I just want to be sure of you.”

           

We all have something – or some things – we would like to be sure of, don’t we?  “Mommy!  Daddy!  There’s a monster under my bed!”  “Mom, Dad, what if she says ‘no’ when I ask her out?” or “What if he doesn’t ask me out?”  “How do I know if he/she is the right one?”  “Is this the job I should go after?” “Am I in the next round of layoffs or am I safe for now?”  “Do I risk this surgery?”  “What should I do about the guy I always see asking for help at the stoplight near the grocery store?”  “God, are you really there?”  We all have something – or some things – we would like to be sure of, don’t we?

           

Today’s Gospel lesson speaks to that hope – that need – we all feel in our lives.  Jesus prays for his disciples just prior to facing the cross – that they will know themselves to be beloved and protected by God.  On the flip side of the coin, I believe a careful reading of the text handed down to us also shows us a Jesus who wants to be sure of a few things, himself, before his world turns upside down and rabid.  “I’m praying this prayer out loud, Father – Abba – because I want my disciples to be sure of you – but also because I need to be sure of you – and sure of myself – as well.  Oh, God, I’m not so sure I can face this test!  I’m not so sure I can really drink this cup – or that I want to drink it, either.  I just want to be sure of you, God.  I just want to be sure.”

           

You see, on the surface none of this suffering Messiah stuff makes any sense.  Dying, yet we live?  It makes no sense.  Embracing the cross on behalf of a world that doesn’t seem to care – that in fact is often adversarial at best?  It makes no sense.  Our following Jesus who says to us, “Take up your cross and follow me?”  Our following Jesus who says to us, “Follow me and the world will hate you?”  It makes no sense.  It should make us feel uncomfortable – like having monsters under the bed.

           

Throughout what we call Jesus’ “Farewell Discourse,” from John 13 up to the garden, or his “High Priestly Prayer,” which we read from today, we come to learn Jesus’ ultimate hope for humanity – his ultimate hope for us – a transfiguring union for us with God.  Following up with last week’s exploration of friendship with God, theologian Bob Hughes adds, “As we grow in union with God (“All mine are yours, and yours are mine,” Jesus tells us), as we grow in union with God, whatever virtue we have comes more and more to be a participation in God’s own perfection(s).  This is like the effect of friendship with a truly great human person whose excellences of character ‘rub off’ on us.” (Robert Davis Hughes III, Beloved Dust: Tides of the Spirit in the Christian Life, 2008, P 299)   Imagine having God ‘rub off’ on us – pretty cool, huh?  Hughes goes on to say, “The love of God for us, and our love of God for God’s own goodness,” becomes the central motivating factor of our lives, leading us to also love “that which our great Friend [Jesus] loves,” loving our neighbor – a love that “flows naturally, directly, and inevitably from [our] love of God” (ibid).

           

 All of which points to the totally incarnational aspects of our faith.  We are not meant to follow Jesus or love God on some abstract level surrounded solely by theological constructs.  We don’t look to theory or sentimental platitudes to find our assurances of God’s presence and God’s love in our lives.  Rather, we see God’s presence – we come to understand what it means to be called God’s own people – we come to understand union with the Divine – in and through the everydayness of life, and the ways in which we live out all those theological constructs in community with one another.  Because in the end, “love of God cannot be seen reliably… the only visible measure we have for someone’s progress in the spiritual life is an increase of effective love for the neighbor” (ibid).

           

Author and Christian activist Robert Roth writes, “It is one thing to live our lives sleepily in this world, yet quite another to adopt an incarnational faith that causes us to engage with history—specifically people who need our love—by heading into the world where we already live.  In extending Jesus’ resurrection love into the world, we go with others, and we go empowered: ‘As you have sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world’ (John 17:18)” (Sojourners Online, Preaching the Word, 5/17/2015).  This is what our bishops mean when they talk with us about going into Galilee.  In the midst of all that, it’s no wonder we feel a need to be sure of something – of someone – beyond us.  It can leave us wanting to find a loving hand to hold in the uncertainties of life.

As adults we realize that when we were little, at the best of times our parents comforted us when we were hurting or scared.  We felt one with them when they checked for monsters under the bed, held us when we were sick or hurting, and encouraged us when we felt lost.  But when they were at their best, they also taught us to stand on our own two feet and sleep in our own rooms – eventually even without a nightlight.  They taught us that even in the midst of all of life’s uncertainties, there are things of which we can be certain – most assuredly among those things being the presence and love of God.

           

That’s the whole flip-side of the assurance thing.  God in Christ assures us of God’s love for us – assures us of God’s ongoing presence in our lives that will come with the gift of the Holy Spirit – which we will celebrate on the Feast of Pentecost next Sunday.  God reaches over (as opposed to “down”) – God reaches over and takes us by the hand – names us God’s own beloved – and then – and then – once empowered by the gift of Holy Spirit in our lives, sends us out into the world to love and serve God by loving and serving our neighbor – any and every neighbor – even the neighbors we have chosen not to like so much – even those who don’t like us very much. 

And that’s the challenge, isn’t it? We cannot just stop and bask in the comfort and love of God without understanding that God’s love is meant to move us to action, because theologically things like comfort and love are as much – if not more – verbs than they are nouns.  There is always a “therefore” that comes with realizing the sureness of God’s presence with, and for us.  We are, in essence, “Therefore People.” 

God loves us and calls us – God is present with us, which is the whole purpose behind the incarnation – God taking on human flesh and dwelling among us – therefore, we are called to live out that love – that presence – in our own lives and for the life of this world.  Which begs the questions: “When and where do you need comfort in your life? When and where is God sending you out to bring comfort and hope for others – for family – for friends – for our neighbor – for the stranger or sojourner among us?

           

In the end, we find our deepest place – our deepest home – in God when we listen to, hear, and follow the desire of Jesus that we become one with one another and one with God.  It is in our desire for – and the acting out of – our oneness, that we finally understand the reasons behind loving one another and caring for and with one another.  And it is in our oneness – our oneness with each other and our oneness with God in Christ – that we can make a difference in this world – that we can make a difference in people’s lives – because alone we can only do so much – but together we can help God change a world.